LITMIR.BIZ

      WIND

      1ST ELEMENT OF THE MYTHUS ASCENDUM

      A Novel By

      Daniel Mello

      Vidya Books

      Copyrighted © 2011 by Daniel Mello

      Cover Art by Edli Akolli

      Disclaimer

      This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, or any situation, is coincidental, not intentional.

      VidyaBooks.com

      Published in 2012

      As an eBook and as a Print-On-Demand book

      Print-On-Demand book edition manufactured in the US

      by Lightning Source / Ingram

      All Rights Reserved

      No portion of this book may be copied for any reason without the prior written permission of the author.

      ISBN 978-1-87809981-5

      VidyaBooks.com

      Acknowledgments

      First, last and everywhere in between is God and the Universe, who’ve given me the talent and wisdom to create such a story. As well, I’m eternally grateful to the Messengers, who’ve kept me free of total insanity as I’ve traveled the journey.

      To Michelle Gatti: Thank you for every single thing. Without your exceptional understanding of “the zone,” none of this would’ve been possible. Deeply, truly, thank you.

      To my Mother, thank you for listening to me speak about the book, and for reading and editing the story more times than anyone should ever have to! I pray there is still some magick left in it for you!

      To Crista, Jenn and Tony, thank you guys for giving me feedback on my ideas! Trust me when I say I need it! To MaLinda, Veronica, Iva, Amanda, Bob and Pia, Susan, Deb, Liz, Chelsea and Danielle, thank you all for your ideas and your unceasing support. Indeed, I have learned that no story is truly written by a single person. MaLinda, your creativity is a blessing to the world! Thank you for everything! Veronica, Iva, and Amanda: thank you all for inquiring about the writing process; you have no idea what that meant to me! Bob and Pia, thank you both for allowing me to write many a chapter upstairs without purchasing a single item! And thank you, Bob, for your literary wisdom. Susan, Deb, Liz, Chelsea and Danielle, thank you guys for being so supportive! Without friends, I wouldn’t have made it!

      Erica Tom, your expertise in the art of wordplay is second to none. The Universe truly brought the perfect editor into my midst. Thank you! And Rashmi Singh, my extraordinary publisher, your patience throughout this process has been crucial to my sanity. Thank you!

      And of course, Dr. Elisa Velasquez, your strength and wisdom is endlessly motivating. Thank you for showing me the art of brevity!

      To the creative writing class that so graciously edited the various snippets, you are all irreplaceable.

      To those who’ve inspired me to create some very benevolent characters, thank you for your inspiration. As well, many thanks to those who’ve inspired me to create the exact opposite; the Force must always have balance. To everyone whose names I have misplaced, I haven’t forgotten your wisdom. Thank you for your input; every little bit helps!

      And last, but certainly not least, much gratitude goes out to my father, whose unique sense of humor has illuminated the journey more times than I can remember.

       You are all blessings in my life! THANK YOU!

      “For it pleased the Father that in him should all fullness dwell; And, having made peace through the blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all things unto himself; by him, I say, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven.”

      Colossians 1:19-20 (KJV)

      1. The Oracle

      The traveler shivered from the cold evening breeze as he gazed upon his future. At first glance, the small wooden cottage seemed remarkably unstable, as if it would crumble over with only a minor gust of wind. Decaying wooden boards lined the sides and the top of the cabin, while a covering of soggy thatched hay draped over the roof. On a rickety, splintered door hung a sterling silver pendant in the shape of a seven-pointed star. And inside the perilously rotted cottage were the answers he was seeking.

      Uncertain, but unfaltering, the traveler advanced.

      Pushing open the unsteady wooden door, the cabin creaked with every step as he moved cautiously inside. Behind a rather unsightly oak desk, through the smoke of a pungent incense billowing from an intricately carved container, the traveler discerned the shadow of a small person scuffling about. Slowly, stepping as lightly as his heavy boots would allow, the traveler approached the desk, weaving slightly to dodge some rusty cages that hung from the leaky wooden ceiling. An assortment of candles scattered throughout the cabin cast a flickering light that dimly illuminated the room just enough for the traveler to notice a raven perched on the top of a small wooden staff leaning against the decrepit desk.

      “Oh, shut up, you stupid bird,” croaked a grainy, high pitched voice from behind the haze an instant before the raven bellowed a silence shattering “caw”!

      Startled by the bird, the traveler ripped his sword loose from its sheath and turned, poised to permanently silence the crow.

      “You won’t need that,” said a small, old woman as she came hobbling through the curtain of smoke. With a quick swing of her thin arm, she smacked the raven right off of the stick, and it flew away with a clamor to a crossbeam overhead. The hilt of the traveler’s sword hit the top of its sheath with a metallic tap as he tucked it away.

      The old witch shuffled up to the rear of the table and slumped down into an old chair, which puffed of cloud of dust in protest.

      “I know why you’re here, of course, but do you,” the witch asked, “Lythina?”

      Suddenly, a pair of young, elegant hands rose up to throw back the traveler’s hood, revealing not a man, but a lady underneath. Fair skin framed calculating emerald eyes, and her soft, slender features were accentuated by the peaks of her pointy ears poking through her dark, wavy hair.

      “I’d ask how you knew my name, but it would be a waste of time,” Lythina replied. “You must be the Oracle of Meaden.” She found herself mesmerized at the woman’s weathered face, which seemed to be wrinkled from many lifetimes of wisdom. Her balding head gripped tightly to the last few strands of gray hair it had left. In fact, she almost looked older than the rotting cottage itself.

      “I am,” the old woman answered simply, allowing her eyes to take in Lythina’s thin frame. “And you’ve traveled thus far to seek your answers, so ask.”

      She didn’t know where to start. Of course, she’d love to know what the future held in store for her kingdom, secretly hoping for a miracle to save them from the oppressive reign of their king. Plus, that would be a courageous, insightful reason to wander the coast at night looking for a forsaken prophet. Once one of the lads back home caught wind of her adventure, she was sure to hook someone.

      After all, that was the real reason why she’d traveled miles from her home village seeking the mysterious Oracle. What she truly wanted was a solution to her deficient love life. No one seemed remotely interested, so maybe there was a spell or something that might work.

      Dreading the appearance of looking completely shallow by wasting her trip asking selfish questions, she decided a more abstract approach might coax an answer from the mystical woman that might possibly, inadvertently, reveal the location of her future husband. No one would be the wiser, and she could still get the answers she wanted.

      Out

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